Gravitational Assist
by trufflemores
Summary: 3.23. Barry meets an unexpected friend in the Speed Force.


"B.A.!"

The exclamation punches joyfully out of H.R.'s chest. He rushes forward and all but tackles Barry, knocking him back a step. They embrace, H.R.'s warm laughter filling the space between them. "I knew you'd come! I knew you'd come," H.R. insists, letting go and holding him at arm's length. "It's so good to see you."

Barry squeezes his elbow. "How'd you—"

Without a word, a Dalmatian puppy, an honest-to-God Speed puppy, pads forward, tail wagging. It plants itself at H.R.'s feet. He sweeps it up into his arms. "I found a friend," he explains, scratching the puppy behind the ears. "I don't know the how or why of it, B, don't ask."

The puppy's tail whacks H.R.'s chest gently. Barry grins. "You – befriended the Speed Force?"

"Is that what this is?" H.R. holds the puppy up, eye-level, and laughs when it licks its nose. "It's cute!"

Barry reaches out and H.R. doesn't hesitate, passing the puppy over. Barry cuddles it against its chest, feeling its warmth between them. "Hi," he greets the Speed puppy, tears pooling in his eyes as it presses its muzzle against his throat. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," H.R. says, beaming. He clasps a hand on Barry's shoulder. "There's this incredible ice cream parlor just down the road, have you seen it? Oh, you're gonna love it, B, it's _divine_."

Barry sets the Dalmatian down and clasps H.R. in another hug, holding him tight. "Thank you," he says, meaning it with every fiber of his being, so intensely it hurts.

H.R. squeezes his shoulders. His voice is very soft, and very sorry. "I had to."

"No, you didn't." Barry shakes his head, tightening his grip, affirming it. "You didn't have to trade places with her, but you did. That was your choice and I am _beyond_ grateful for the sacrifice you made, for us, for me, for _her_."

"You deserve a happy ending," H.R. replies simply.

"So do you," Barry says, stepping back, holding both of his shoulders. "I'm gonna get you one, okay?" The Speed puppy presses its snout against his calf. Barry smiles and amends, " _We're_ gonna get you one."

H.R. holds a hand to his heart. "B," he says, infusing the single syllable with so much sincerity it's almost hard to listen to. "You're a wonder."

"So they tell me," Barry replies, following the Speed puppy's lead as it takes off. "Come on." He slides his arm around H.R.'s shoulders companionably. "Let's go get some ice cream."

Seated on the parlor's redwood front porch, H.R. eats mint chocolate chip with him and elaborates. "Iris told you about the swap?" Barry nods. H.R. shovels another spoonful into his mouth before continuing. "I thought that was it," he admits bluntly. "Game over. But then – I can't describe it. I felt _okay_. But I also felt like I didn't have a body."

Another spoonful. Barry knows the feeling: he experienced the same disembodied moment almost a year prior. After the second particle accelerator explosion, he resurfaced in the Speed Force to the disconcerting sense of possessing nothing – not even a true physical form. The Speed Force gave him one, allowed him to exist in a coherent fashion, and brought him back to life as the same man he left – in theory. In practice, he was a completely new person. He felt it, too: stronger, healthier, _readier_.

"Everything was dark. There were no trees, no streets." A nod at each, occupying the space around them. "It was just me." He polishes off his bowl, setting it down beside him and sweeping up the Dalmatian into his lap. "Then I found this – the Speed Force – wandering around. I couldn't see it, but I felt it brush up against my leg. My not-leg." Shaking his head, he scratches behind its ears, fishing for words. "I didn't know what else to do, so I knelt down and reached out to it. And the world leaped into view." With a finishing flourish of his hands, he gestures grandly around him at the provincial street.

"I didn't know the Speed Force could rescue non-speedsters," Barry muses, polishing off a waffle cone.

"Told it we were friends," H.R. explains, fishing pocket change from his coat and dumping a handful of indecipherable coins into Barry's hands. "Go get yourself another, I've got so much more to tell you."

"We don't have to pay –" Shaking his head, Barry accepts the money, standing. "I'll be right back."

Returning with a pair of cones, he passes H.R. one. H.R. sets the Speed Force onto the seat beside him to take it and rests a hand on the puppy's back. "And at first I thought, the greatest story I can never tell!" H.R. muses. Brightening, he coins it. " _Stuck in the Speed Force!_ My most fabulous adventure yet and I was cut off from everyone, unable to tell it." The puppy presses its nose against his leg and H.R. rubs its head. "From _civilization_ ," he corrects. "Bereft, stranded – our intrepid hero seemed in his darkest moment."

The puppy pads over to Barry and lies down; Barry rests a hand across its shoulders.

"Then I found your letter." H.R. bites into his cone.

Barry blinks. "My letter?"

"Your letter." H.R. fishes a folded-up piece of paper from his front coat pocket and clears his throat. In a deep, crotchety old voice, he creaks, " _Postmarked: April 30, 2092_. Damn, you're old, B." Clearing his throat to maintain character, he continues. " _Greetings, mortal. I, the Most Awesome, have heard your plea across the universes and delivered to you a way out._ "

"That's not what it says," Barry retorts. He finishes his cone and reaches for the paper; H.R. evades.

" _The story of H.R. must live on! A messiah, I have sent you—_ "

"You're really going for it."

" _At the risk of destroying the universe in a cosmic wave of annihilation, I cannot divulge the date of his arrival. But he will be here. And he will set you free._ " With a deep, satisfied inhalation, he finishes, "Signed, _Your friend until the end of the universe and beyond, B.A._ "

Barry finally makes a successful snatch at the paper. It's very short.

 _Postmarked: April 30, 2092._

 _H.R.: Stay put. I'm on my way._

 _– Barry._

He laughs, passing it back. It's clearly been opened and closed dozens of times; the creases evidence revisits. "How long did you wait?" he asks.

H.R. makes a show of checking an old pocket watch. "It's been a little sideways since I got here, but six weeks, give or take."

The puppy gnaws affectionately on Barry's wrist. Barry lets it. "Sorry it took so long."

H.R. grabs his shoulder with both hands and shakes it affectionately. "B.A.! You're here! That's all that matters." With one final shake, he lets go and leans back on his hands. "So! When do we go home?"

The puppy's teeth hold steady. Barry reaches out to rub its head reassuringly. "Uh, whenever you want?"

H.R. leaps to his feet. The puppy doesn't move. Barry doesn't, either. "Well, come on, B.A.," H.R. says, dragging him upward. Barry scoops up the puppy to compensate and stands. "Let's go! Tracy has to be worried sick." He frowns, adding, "How's she doing?"

Barry hesitates. "She'll be really, really happy to see you," is all he says.

H.R. relaxes. "And I, her." Inhaling deeply, he gestures around him. "Our grandest shared adventure yet. What's next?"

Barry feels the puppy's weight against his chest and can't evade the same curiosity. _What's next?_ he asks it.

The puppy yawns and cozies up to him.

Inspiration strikes Barry. "I'll be right back." Disappearing inside the parlor, he finds a stack of papers and a pen underneath the counter. The puppy whimpers once and he hitches it higher, closer to his throat, and promises, "I'm not going anywhere." One-handed, he writes a simple note. Folds it carefully. Passes it to H.R. on the porch.

"Don't open that until you're on the other side," he tells him.

H.R. frowns. "You're – wait, you're not coming with me?"

The puppy snores softly under his chin. Barry shakes his head. "I can't," he admits. "Not yet."

H.R. reaches for him, holding onto his side. "B.A.," he implores.

The puppy gnaws gently on his shirt. "Not yet," he repeats.

"Come home soon," he entreats.

A Speed-portal opens, unbidden. Barry can't see beyond the storm. He's grateful for that small mercy; he doesn't know if he could resist the sight of _home_. "It won't stay open for long," he warns. "Go."

H.R. hugs him. "Thank you," he says again.

Barry squeezes him with his free arm, Speed Force pressed between them. "Go," he repeats.

H.R. steps away, walking towards the portal, and turns to look at him. Lifting a hand in a Vulcan salute, he says, "Live long."

Barry mirrors him. "And prosper."

H.R. beams, tears in his eyes. "Cisco taught me that."

Barry almost can't speak, the lump in his throat is so tight. "Go," he says a third time, and H.R. walks into the storm and vanishes.

Cradling the Speed Force to his chest, Barry rocks on his feet for a moment, overcome with _want_. Home. Family. Central City. His own bed. His own _life_.

Then he turns and walks, carving a trail across time.

. o .

H.R.'s reception is loud, and joyful: Cisco yells, H.R. yells, and Cindy accidentally blasts him off his feet before realizing who it is.

"Francesco!" he roars, scrambling back to his feet, and Cisco laughs and has tears in his eyes when he's tackled, the rest of the team abuzz. Everybody's home, Joe, Wally, Iris, Julian – it's a thrill to hug and shake hands with them all after releasing Cisco.

"Oh, I missed you guys."

They put Tracy on speaker phone. When she arrives she's already crying, running for him and he catches her in a sweeping hug.

"Oh, I missed you!" he effuses.

. o .

It's late before H.R. remembers the letter. Opening it, he reads it out loud.

 _Postmarked: May 24, 2017._

 _Hey guys,_

 _I miss you already._

 _I'm coming home. Someday._

 _You'll just have to trust me on this one. Keep living. I want to hear good stories when I come back._

 _Yours,_

 _B.A._


End file.
